


The games people play

by mrua7



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Escape, Friendship, Gen, Mystery, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:47:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29736864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrua7/pseuds/mrua7
Summary: A flier recruiting spies sends Solo, Kuryakin, Slate and Kittridge to investigate.
Kudos: 10





	The games people play

**Author's Note:**

> WRITTEN for the PicFic Tuesday writing challenge on Section VII, LiveJournal

**The prompt:**

****

Illya Kuryakin was a man who was rarely agitated but as he stormed into the office he shared with Napoleon, it was clear the Russian wasn’t happy.

He tossed a piece of paper on his partner’s desk.

“Take a look at this!” He barked.”THRUSH is now recruiting out in the open, no more secrecy. They have truly become emboldened.”

Solo picked up the flyer and took a good look at it. 

“Secret Agent training camp, secret agents only. Top Secret.” All he could do was smile. “Where’d you find this?”

“It was nailed to a plywood fence at a construction area in the Village.“Why do you look so amused; THRUSH is obviously up to no good and needs new recruits.”

“Illya, they’re always up to no good, but this just seems a little silly even for them.”

“I think we should check it out.”

Napoleon tossed the handbill aside and let out a long sigh as he rose from his chair. 

“Well, lead on MacDuff.” When his Russian partner had made up his mind there was simply no use in trying to change it.  
  


They took a taxi, though it was only a fifteen minute drive and after paying the cab fare Solo followed his partner to where he’d found the flier.

The plywood wall was now plastered with more of the same handbill, though these listed an address and a time.

“The meeting is tonight at 7 o’clock at the Limelight Inn,” Napoleon said.

“Then we should attend, in disguise perhaps,” Kuryakin suggested.” THRUSH is familiar with our faces.”

“Good idea, but let’s have a few other agents come with us. We’ll pack the place and reveal ourselves as UNCLE agents; I’m sure it won’t go over well with our feathered friends, if you’re right about this.”

“What do you mean,  _ if  _ I am right?”

“I don’t mean anything by it, I’m just keeping an open mind to other possibilities. There are other organizations out there besides THRUSH, such as SPECTRE, KAOS, just to name just a few..”

Illya merely rolled his eyes.

“Hey, you’re not the all omnipotent Kuryakin you know, you do make mistakes.”

“As do you.”

The disagreement quickly petered out as they recruited a few agents from the bullpen to accompany them to the meeting. 

As his disguise Napoleon resorted to his nerdy persona, his usual choice of minimal camouflage. His hair was parted in the middle, he wore a pair of heavy black-framed glasses. He wore a tweed suit, and finishing off the look was a green checkered bow tie.

Illya opted to darken his hair and wear a false goatee. He had on a black trench coat over his black suit, with his black turtleneck. Atop his head was a black felt fedora. The finishing touch was his dark tinted glasses.

Mark Slate was dressed like a Bowery bum in clothing that was ragged and mismatched, though at least he didn’t reek. Having just returned from an extended mission, he was in need of a shave and a haircut, but for his disguise he remained ill kempt.

Kit Kittridge was dressed in a fitted suit, looking very dapper with a matching waistcoat. He was sucking on a pipe as he fiddled with a monocle.

There were three other agents who were dressed like everyday workmen.

Several others were milling about, dressed in suits and ties, but none of them were known to the agents.

A woman appeared, well dressed in a jacket and pencil skirt. Her blonde hair was pinned up in a beehive do, and she wore a pair of eyeglasses but that didn’t disguise how beautiful she was.

“Welcome gentlemen, thank you for responding to the advertisement. My name is Violet Lacey. Now, if you’ll follow me please.”

They were led down a flight of stairs to a large basement and there they were given waivers to sign, basically freeing whoever was doing this Spy Training would be free from any liability.

That the UNCLE agents found strange. Of course they didn’t use their real names.

One by one she called on the men, asking why they were interested in being a spy or improving their spying techniques.

“Mister  Komarov?” She looked at Illya

“Da.”

“Oh so you’re Russian?” She spoke to him in his own language. “Your last name translates to mosquito...does that mean you can be a bit annoying?” She chuckled at her own joke.

Napoleon looked at his partner, trying not to snicker.

“Is that problem? I can give you different name,” Illya switched to English, but maintained a thick Russian accent.

“No not at all sir. I must say you do look the part of a spy.’’

He said nothing in response.

“And you,” she looked at Solo.” Mister Arnold. It says here your first name is Leslie.”

“Why yes it is, I was named after my grandfather on my mother’s side. Her family always had the most interesting and unusual names. I’ve done quite a bit of research into my family tree and it’s revealed…”

“Yes thank you Mister Arnold; and you Mister Bertrand,” she looked at Slate.   


“Yes Miss, but you can call me Mickey,” he responded in a heavy Cockney accent.

“You’re British?”

“Yes Miss. I’m cold and coke, anyways I figured this spy business thing might be right for me. I’m pretty good at the duck and dive.” *

The woman’s expression was one of being perplexed as she had no idea what Mickey had just said.

“Mister Irwin?”

“Here Miss,” Kit raised his hand.

“And what’s your interest in coming here?”

“Oh I don’t mind a bit of hard yacka, I was thinking it would be a good change for me. Bit of excitement, if you get my meaning?”**

“You’re Australian I take it?”

“Yes Miss, true blue.”

She shook her head; removing her eyeglasses, she wiped the lenses with a tissue before putting them back on. 

One by one she continued to speak to everyone until she finally revealed there’d be a test.

“You’ll be divided up into teams and locked in one of our back rooms,” she pointed to four metal doors.

“There you will find clues and solve puzzles to complete your given mission and find the key to  free yourselves.”

Solo and Kuryakin were assigned with Mark and Kit. The other UNCLE agents were mixed in with the other three teams, 

“Now gentlemen, to prove your mettle as a team, you’ll have one hour to locate your clues, complete your mission and  escape . Good luck to you all..”

As they stepped inside their rooms, one after the other, they found it dimly lit; surveying their surroundings they saw bits and bobs, incomplete jigsaw puzzles, tools. Scientific equipment was flashing and buzzing, and a chalkboard with a mathematical formula. There were shelves lined with numerous books, a globe of the world on a table and the portrait looking quite like their female hostess.

On another wall was a large digital clock that had begun ticking down the sixty minutes in bright red numbers.

There was no other door through which they could leave, that in and of itself seemed a bit unnerving.

“So we look for the clues to get out of here mates?” Mark asked.

The minutes clicked by as the UNCLE agents searched through the odds and ends in the room; picking things up and 

“I wonder what happens if we don’t get out of here? “Napoleon suddenly said.

“There’s no other means of escape, perhaps we have let ourselves fall into a trap,” Illya said.

“Always looking on the bright side aren’t you, tovarisch? And may I remind you that you were the one who insisted upon coming here…” 

“Napoleon this is ridiculous. I am not looking for clues. If it is THRUSH looking for recruits then they will probably kill those who are unsuccessful at completing this so-called test.”

“Then what do you propose we do tovarisch?”

“I have an immediate and simple solution,” Illya flashed a near feral grin.  
  


Outside Miss Lacey looked at her wristwatch, when unexpectedly Illya burst through their open door, followed by Napoleon and the others.

“This is impossible! How could you have found the clues and the solution to escape so quickly? You were only in there for five minutes.

Illya shrugged his answer. 

“Well we’ll have to wait for a better answer than that until the sixty minutes are up and the others free themselves or not.”   


Time moved slowly until a buzzer sounded that time was up. The other doors automatically opened and the others stepped out into the light. Everyone was safe and sound.

“Well, I would say this test was more of a failure than a success.  Mister  Komarov, how is it that you and your team were first out in such a short time?”.   


“I picked the lock.”

“Are you kidding me?” She blurted out. “Doing that defeated the whole purpose of this test.”

“How so?” Napoleon asked.

“You were supposed to follow the rules to complete the mission and find the clues that would lead you to the key to the door so you could escape.”

“Madam,”Napoleon removed his glasses and straightened up.”Just exactly what organization are you working for?”

“Organization”   


“Are you THRUSH, KAOS, SPECTRE,?” Illya demanded.

“I’ve never heard of those...things. What are they?”She asked.

“I find it hard to believe that you do not recognize the names of the most notorious espionage agencies in the world. Were you not advertising for spies with your fliers?” Illya asked.

He pulled a folded flier from his pocket and held it up for her to  see.”

“I told them the flier was misleading but they wouldn’t listen to a woman!” Violet moaned.

“Who?” Napoleon demanded.

_ “Who? _ ” She repeated.

**“WHO!”** Napoleon, Illya, Mark and Kit bellowed at the same time.

“Don’t yell at me; I haven’t done anything wrong!”

“Sorry,” Napoleon lowered his voice. “Now let’s all calm down. Please, just tell me who you work for?”

“Hiro Takata. He owns a Japanese import-export toy and novelty company and was looking to develop a novel game that adults could play. By figuring out the clues left in what he called an Exit Room, the players would have to work as a team to find and figure out the clues in order to free themselves.”

“Interesting idea Miss,” Napoleon said,” but the concept definitely has its flaws. We happen to work for the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement."

“You're police?"

"Sort of..." Napoleon said.

The woman was visibly upset. "I do apologize gentlemen for using you as guinea pigs. Mister Takata will definitely want to revamp the concept, or he may drop it all together.”

“Perhaps if you’d advertised it as a game, you might have had different results,”Illya nodded, though his next words were rather curt. “Now good day.”

Napoleon leaned over towards the woman’s face. “Might be a good idea to cease operations.”  He said something else to her, but no one heard it. What he said most certainly made her blush as he slipped her his business card.

As they left the Limelight Inn, Kuryakin turned to his partner. “I am thinking this escape thing will not catch on. It seems like such a frivolous waste of time...by the way, what did you whisper to her?”

“What do you think?” Napoleon grinned.

“You asked her out? Really Napoleon, you are incorrigible.”

“Yes I know,” Solo winked. 

  
  
  
  


**SPECTRE** is from the Bond series

**KAOS** is from ‘Get Smart”

  
  


**True blue** : a true Australian. Hard Yakka: hard work

**Cold and coke** : Cockney rhyming meaning ‘broke’,

**Duck and dive** :  to repeatedly move your head or the top part of your body quickly down and in different directions, especially to avoid being hit


End file.
